and then you won't have to come down for it;
always make your head save your heels. Rub your feet on that braided
rug; hang your hat and cape in the entry there as you go past."

"It's my best hat," said Rebecca

"Take it upstairs then and put it in the clothes-press; but I shouldn't
'a' thought you'd 'a' worn your best hat on the stage."

"It's my only hat," explained Rebecca. "My every-day hat wasn't good
enough to bring. Fanny's going to finish it."

"Lay your parasol in the entry closet."

"Do you mind if I keep it in my room, please? It always seems safer."

"There ain't any thieves hereabouts, and if there was, I guess they
wouldn't make for your sunshade, but come along. Remember to always go
up the back way; we don't use the front stairs on account o' the
carpet; take care o' the turn and don't ketch your foot; look to your
right and go in. When you've washed your face and hands and brushed
your hair you can come down, and by and by we'll unpack your trunk and
get you settled before supper. Ain't you got your dress on hind sid'
foremost?"

Rebecca drew her chin down and looked at the row of smoked pearl
buttons running up and down the middle of her flat little chest.

"Hind side foremost? Oh, I see! No, that's all right. If you have seven
children you can't keep buttonin' and unbuttonin' 'em all the
time--they have to do themselves. We're always buttoned up in front at
our house. Mira's only three, but she's buttoned up in front, too."

Miranda said nothing as she closed the door, but her looks were at once
equivalent to and more eloquent than words.

Rebecca stood perfectly still in the centre of the floor and looked
about her. There was a square of oilcloth in front of each article of
furniture and a drawn-in rug beside the single four poster, which was
covered with a fringed white dimity counterpane.

Everything was as neat as wax, but the ceilings were much higher than
Rebecca was accustomed to. It was a north room, and the window, which
was long and narrow, looked out on the back buildings and the barn.

It was not the room, which was far more comfortable than Rebecca's own
at the farm, nor the lack of view, nor yet the long journey, for she
was not conscious of weariness; it was not the fear of a strange place,
for she loved new places and courted new sensations; it was because of
some curious blending of uncomprehended emotions that Rebecca stood her
sunshade in the corner, tore off her best